


Acting is the Greatest Lie

by deadinside_canyoutell



Series: Neil and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Or, Lola's trial) [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: But she's like barely mentioned, Court Cases, Fairly graphic violence, Gen, I've watched HTGAWM, Lola's Trial, Lola's super toxic, Neil Josten - Freeform, Not Canon Compliant, OOC, So is Mary, Soooo Out of Character, Suicidal Neil (sort of), Torture, Violence, but he's like 9, does that count?, he's really tired ok, i hate her, idk how they work, if you've read Welcome Back Butcher, not at all my dudes, this takes place before that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-11-12 01:05:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18000872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadinside_canyoutell/pseuds/deadinside_canyoutell
Summary: The Foxes have been walking on eggshells around Neil as Lola's trial looms near. But Neil doesn't break. Hesmiles.





	Acting is the Greatest Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Twisted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16326296) by [trubenblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trubenblack/pseuds/trubenblack). 



> ok so 
> 
> this fic is basically me writing about how nathaniel comes out to protect him whenever he needs it  
> an like, yea ik both are abused kids who've been through a lot  
> but i think the real difference between the two is that nathaniel learned to survive and endure while neil learned to stay and trust 
> 
> and, ok listen, ik neil isnt like this in canon  
> but this isnt canon compliant  
> i literally just wanted to write a fic where neil doesnt _care_ because hes winning and thats all he had been raised to care about

Neil walked into the courthouse with the Foxes at his back, a carefully blank expression on his face. His coping mechanism had always been suppression, cramming his emotions into a bottle till it broke. It was unhealthy, but it was also all he knew, all he had been taught.

But as the judge called him up for his testimony, as Lola grinned eagerly and waved from her seat, Neil felt the first cracks in the facade. For the first time in a long time, though, he let his mother’s voice wash over him, snapping at him and saying he’s _fine_ , he couldn’t afford to be weak, couldn’t afford to break.

For the first time in a long time, he listened.

As he settled down in the seat upfront, swore an oath, and gave his name to the court in front of him, he brought up all the walls the Foxes had worked so hard to destroy. To Lola, this were merely a game, one they both know he would technically win. But as her defending lawyer pulled out a flash drive, he realized what this really was.

A last minute attempt at _breaking_ him.

“Lola Malcolm pleads innocent by way of insanity. She has submitted these videos as proof,” her lawyer declared, turning to face the judge.

“I object, your honor. These videos weren’t placed in evidence beforehand. We haven’t had time to prepare.” Neil’s lawyer, Haversham, was too innocent, too new. Of course the videos weren’t in evidence. That’s not what they _were_. They were meant to crush Neil under the weight of trauma his mother had beat out of him. To remind him what he ran from, why he’s so screwed up, why he hadn’t felt hope until he was 18, until he had been handed a contract for Palmetto. The official reason was because-

“The videos were just recovered, and Ms. Malcolm refused to use them at first but recently agreed. We didn’t have time to put them in evidence.” Lola’s lawyer Denroe was quick to answer. Was he one of Nathan’s?

“Allowed. Put in the flash drive.” Lola turned her gaze to Neil analyzing his every movement for signs of his panic, fear, anger.

It never came.

 

Nathaniel, the boy on the screen, was tied up to the ceiling, feet brushing the ground below him and eyes closed. 

" _Wakey wakey_ , Junior," Lola yelled in glee. "You've been a bad boy." She grinned as she stressed the last two words as much as humanly possible. A knife with black steel handles glinted as she shone the light in his eyes like a petty older sibling. Nathaniel blinked slowly, exhausted despite his "lesson" not starting yet. His dull eyes tracked her as she neared him, as the  _knife_ neared him. 

The first cut started just under his belly button and ended on his left hip. Blood dripped but Nathaniel didn't stir. He was 9 and so,  _so_ , tired. Another cut followed his collarbone, dipping off his shoulder onto his back to leave a nasty gash. It went like this for minutes that passed like years until Lola grew bored. 

"Oh, Junior, you're no fun when you don't scream." She leaned forward. "Suggestions? at this point, I'll take anything." She waited a beat before huffing, turning to chose another "toy." 

"Kill me," Nathaniel rasped. "End it,  _please_." Lola froze at the request, turning slowly. "You always say I've been bad. If I'm such a waste, just  _kill me_." Nathaniel pleaded, eyes reflecting a certain exhaustion a 9 year old shouldn't know. 

Lola sighed. "Oh, Nathaniel." She walked back, stopping right in front of Nathaniel. "It would be so much easier if I could, wouldn't it? But, see, there's still potential in you. I wouldn't have to hurt you like this if you were just  _good_. Listen to your father, practice our lessons, and behave. This won't get better until you do." As she spoke, on-screen Lola caressed Nathaniel's cheek, one of the few gentle and warm gestures from his childhood. She spoke gently, adding a soothing tone towards the end to make her instructions seem easier. Nathaniel closed his eyes and leaned in to the touch, too young to see the toxicity in her words. 

"I'll be better," he murmured.

The thing about Lola was that she enjoyed mental torture as much as its physical counterpart. She knew that, at times like these, Nathaniel was most vulnerable to manipulation. Taking advantage was just habit. And if she screwed him up? If she was the reason why he always,  _always_ , blamed himself? So much the better. 

With that promise still echoing throughout the bleak room, Lola raised the knife still in her hand and cut from the first rib to his waist. Unprepared, Nathaniel let out a hoarse scream, head dipped down so he missed the return of Lola's manic smile. 

 

That was the day Neil first realized that kindness came with pain. But on days like that, on days where he'd forgotten warmth wasn't just a fairy-tale, he allowed it. He  _begged_ for it, the taste of affection a tantalizing necessity that both sated him and made him crave more. He was the same way with his mother, believing he deserved every slap and punch, believing he wasn't good enough. 

Neil turned to Lola, raising an eyebrow, uncaring of the horrified Foxes in the audience.  _Was_ that _meant to break me_? Neil asked with his expression. He felt a sudden wave of gratitude to his mother for her lessons in acting like he was fan-fucking-tastic _;_  in flicking through his arsenal of masks, of identities; in slipping into his chosen personality like an old coat, familiar and comforting and a reminder all at once. "Acting is the greatest lie, Abram," she had told him. "Play your part well enough and you won't have to utter a single word to deceive them all." 

The screen flickered to life as the next video loaded. 

 

10-year-old Nathaniel wore a suit and tie as Lola led him to the basement, a false smile still on his face from the birthday party that just ended. Nathan, who had left earlier, was waiting in the dark with two adorable pigs in a cage to his left. 

"Happy birthday, son. Lola mentioned your lessons were going well. Since you hit double digits today, I thought we'd try out a live target." Nathan gave a chilling smile with a hint of pride in it. After his promise to be better only months ago, Nathaniel had been doing his best to follow it, even though Lola had been wrong. He was better, but he was still hurt as often as possible. "Lola, bolt the door." 

Nathan turned to the cage and lifted the bigger pig. As he carried it to a table, Lola sharpened his cleaver and Nathaniel attempted to protest. "I can't get blood on this suit. It's new," he tried. 

"You should know by now how to avoid that problem," Nathan snapped. Nathaniel flinched; he knew all too well. But before Nathan could start his lesson, his phone rang. "Damn," he muttered. "Lola, take care of this. I'm needed." Lola nodded and smiled as Nathan walked away, taking the call and growling at whoever was at the other end. Not the Moriyamas, then. 

"First thing's first, Junior," she sang. "Immobilize the pig, just like this." She made one swift cut on the pig's side. Blood seeped through the wound as the pig let out a pained oink. "Your turn!" Lola set up on a second table the smaller pig. 

Nathaniel took a step back shaking his head. "No," he choked out. "I can't." Lola's smile slipped as a snarl took its place. 

"You weak fucking bastard," she hissed. "I told your father you were ready. Are you  _trying_ to make me look bad? You think he'll choose you over me?" She stalked closer until she was looming over him. "If you won't do it, I will. It'll be less fun than hurting you, but I suppose I can pretend." Her smile was back, though noticeably more strained. 

As the pigs' blood dripped and the limbs sliced off and the organs stabbed and the skin burned, Nathaniel watched in frozen fear. Phantom pains slithered through his body as he stood there, unable to move, to think, to react. 

The poor pigs didn't know what was coming. 

 

Neil had already decided Nathaniel should watch the videos. Granted, Nathaniel was the one being tortured in them, but he also knew best how to daunt Lola. He faced her, knowing the videos were over, and  _smiled_. With his natural eyes and hair, he already looked like his father. But, with his sadistic smile and cold, dead eyes, they seemed more like brothers than father and son. Lola blinked, disgruntled at not only the unaffected air he was giving off, but at Nathaniel using his torturous father and her beloved boss to taunt her. She leaned closer in her seat, eyes calculating and desperately searching. By submitting the videos, she had nailed her coffin shut, but she had hoped they would prompt a mental breakdown.

She should have known: You can't fix what isn't broken, but you also can't break what's already shattered. 

Nathan's smile vanished as soon as he realized people were starting to shake off their shock, their horror. Chris, another identity, another mask, took Nathaniel's place to play the media like a fiddle. Chris appreciated his mother's lessons the most, keeping up his mask all day at school and practicing his expressions. He gave off a pathetic vibe, practically screaming, _I_ _'m just a child who wanted to play exy. Please don't hurt me. I didn't deserve any of this_. 

(Neil still believed he did. Maybe not back then, but the pain he suffered in both Baltimore and on the run made up for the lives he taken in the name of his 'selfish' survival.) 

Fake tears slipped through as he slowly sipped at his water, trying to look as if he were collecting himself before giving his statement. He set the glass back down and faced the reporters, lawyers, and Foxes sitting before him, head tilted up defiantly while he let his chin give a slight quiver.  _I'm not a threat. I'm not the Butcher's son. Look at how weak I am. U n d e r e s t i m a t e   m e. I'm only a_ child _._  

(Nathaniel, Chris, Neil, they were never children.) 

(He had learned from the very beginning how to use his ~~lessons~~ abuse as a weapon, as a tool to gain sympathizers and ) 

The reporters snapped photos while the judge glanced at him sympathetically. "15 minute recess." He nodded at ~~Chris~~ Neil and watched as Neil exited the ~~stage~~ courtroom. 

The Foxes hadn't yet left the courtroom, giving Chr- Neil a chance at collecting himself, at switching back to Neil. 

" _Oh my god Neil, are you okay_???" Nicky practically screeched. Neil knew the videos would have...  _upset_ the Foxes, to say the least. But he himself hadn't been too bothered. He couldn't be, not if he wanted to win. And isn't that all that mattered? 

"I'm fine," came the automatic response. 

"Shut the fuck up, Neil. You're  _crying_." Dan cut in. Anger gave her eyes a wild, yet concerned, look. It was amazing how she wasn't actually Coach's daughter- biologically, at least. 

"Oh, that?" Neil touched the corner of his eyes and wiped away the tears. "Fake tears. Mom taught me," he gave a small grin at that, trying to lighten the mood. 

Matt frowned. "You sure they were fake? The videos were..." He trailed off, unable to explain just how horrifying they were. 

"It's not important. Lola's just trying to trigger a mental breakdown." Neil dismissed. "Besides, they actually help me. I win, don't I? That's all that matters." He shrugged.  _The ends justify the means, Abram_. "The ends justify the means," Neil echoed. 

"Neil," Nicky started softly. "You were begging for death. Don't tell me that doesn't matter." Oh. Right. Neil hesitated, unsure if it was worth protesting. It was different for him; he wasn't the same as the others. He'd been taught to endure, to take the blows without flinching. He'd been taught that it would never change, not like he wanted it to. He'd been taught to get used to it because that was the best form of survival for a young Nathaniel. 

But Neil wasn't him, not right now, at least. So he nodded, let a glassy look overtake his features, turned back towards the door. Damn it, he never wanted to act in front of the Foxes. But the trial was too much for Neil, too much for him to process the way he would have on the run. 

That is, he would have spent only a day sorting through whatever he could before he smothered the rest, the bottle cracking at the walls and threatening to burst. 

"It'll work out though, right?" He let a sliver of faux vulnerability slip into his voice, knowing that would be enough for the Foxes. That was twice in two minutes now that he had acted before the Foxes. He promised he was done lying, but some things were best left hidden. He wasn't apathetic like Andrew, just... protected. He didn't just have walls that prevented him from trusting, from caring, from getting attached. Acting, lying, tricking,  _killing_. They were weapons every identity but Neil knew (thanks, mom), and he could access them by getting to his different masks. 

"Of course it will," Allison tutted. "Besides, even if it doesn't, I could always arrange for a small... accident. A broken bone or two, maybe?" Renee nodded encouragingly at that, which was truly a testament to the cruelty in the videos. Neil, meanwhile, offered a watery smile before mentioning the break was almost up. Before turning away, Andrew asked him a quick "yes or no," and squeezed his hand. 

Neil made his way back to his seat in the front beside the judge. Haversham wasted no time starting Neil on his testimony. 

"Mr.Josten. Based on your knowledge of Ms.Malcolm, as well as the videos just shown, would you say she is clinically insane?" Neil took his time answering.  

 "No. There's a reason she's my father's right hand- her skill. You can't get too far in this business if you're clinically insane or unstable," Neil shook his head. 

Haversham nodded as he continued his line of his brutal and tactless questioning, not hesitating to explicitly describe what they saw or prompt Neil into near-flashbacks.

So much for calling him innocent. 

 

* * *

 

 Neil blinked. He was sitting in the audience as the judge announced the jury's unanimous vote of "guilty." Neil didn't remember the rest of the trial but brushed it off, knowing he had disassociated hard enough to miss the entire trial, except, of course, when he was on the stand. As he watched Lola get dragged away in handcuffs, head held high with whatever dignity she could scrap up, he smiled. 

"I won," he whispered in disbelief. His mother's ghost would be looking up at him from hell, proud for what is likely the first time in his life. 

His Foxes glanced at him, their smiles hiding an undercurrent of concern. "Yeah," Dan said carefully. "Thank God it's over now." As the others nodded in assent, a short brunette in a pantsuit walked up to him. 

"Neil, may we have a moment to talk?" 

"Fuck off," Andrew interjected before Neil could open his mouth. With anyone else, he would have turned his back on the intruder, but the familiar British accent gave him a pause. 

"Anne?" Neil asked, turning towards her. 

She smiled. "Long time no see, little cousin." 

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i started this a while ago n ao3 was gonna delete it   
> so i finished it (obvi) but im sorry if the endings super choppy or whatever   
> but like im so frickin tired its not even funny 
> 
> also ive been thinking about a second part, but i said that for my other fic too n like nothings written so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> comments/kudos pls


End file.
